


My Best Friend

by NanakiBH



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Ending, Happy Ending, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-28
Updated: 2008-09-28
Packaged: 2017-11-19 19:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanakiBH/pseuds/NanakiBH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He barely got to say goodbye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Best Friend

How many, he had wondered.

How many more precious people to him had to die before it would finally be his turn to step over the threshold? When would he be reunited with his princess and hold her hand and see her smile again?

Suzaku's mind felt blank as he stared at the wall, his thoughts seeming to reject the reality of what had actually happened. It made him want to cry, to scream, because the one person he had left, the one worth the most to him had... The moment he came near it, his thoughts shied away, denying it if only because it had been his fault. Maybe it was their fault and his young emperor shared half the blame. But no matter how many times his thoughts strayed, his hands would remember the feeling of the cold hilt of the sword and the contrast of Lelouch's warm blood.

His head was swimming, his stomach felt sick. He curled up, hugging his knees weakly to his chest, hands shaking in the death-grip on his pants. He could still hear Nunnally shrieking and sobbing, could still see her pulling her brother close as he faded away. And what of him? His tears had already gone dry, far past the point of crying. But he still remembered the way his tears ran down to his chin and pooled around his neck underneath the mask, watching from behind the glass with tear-blurred eyes as if viewing a grand tragedy, hoping, so hoping that Lelouch would rise after the final act.

For just one last bow.

One last...

He blinked, startled that more tears had somehow found their way to his eyes.

It wasn't like this before, for Euphie. This feeling made him want to scream and claw at his own heart. He wanted to escape it so badly.

“Lelouch,” he gasped, the name sounding half-absurd on his own tongue now. “What've I...” His breath caught and he choked back a sob, swiping at the tears flowing down the corners of his eyes. His mouth went dry, unable to let the words fall from his lips.

He wanted nothing more than to die, to disappear finally and escape the madness that had surrounded them. Even if he left his life as Suzaku Kururugi, he'd inherited the life of a man far more infamous. It was all for Lelouch but now... He wished none of it had happened. They would still be attending Ashford Academy, seeing each other everyday, imparting smiles to each other whether they were real ones or not. Right then, the happiness of thousands felt like nothing compared to his sadness. He just wanted to see Lelouch smiling again, even if it meant taking back all the progress they'd made.

It frightened him how easily Lelouch's sadly smiling face came to mind. He didn't try to forget it. It was the last time he would see him smile and he wanted to hold that as close as he could.

As his vision began to clear a little more again, his gaze settled on the mask on the bedside table. It wasn't his, didn't feel like his, felt like he was borrowing it, felt like he could give it back. It was the oddest feeling to lay there and think, _“he's gone.”_ Somehow, he still felt like he could shove the thing back at Lelouch's chest and say, “I don't want this.” All of it.

It physically hurt to drag himself up from the bed. His muscles screamed as he stretched from his curled position. A wave of nausea rushed over him and he doubled over again, gripping his ankles so tightly he felt his nails dig in, creasing the fabric of his suit. His...

_No. It's not mine. It's not..._

It didn't even fit right. It was too small for him, straining around the arms and legs whenever he would move. It had fit so perfectly on Lelouch, clinging to all the right places without looking outright erotic. He pressed his hands against his chest, running them up over his shoulders, tugging the cravat closer to his face. It still smelled like him. The idiot hadn't even bothered to get it cleaned before giving it to him. _Oh God it still smelled like him._

“This is... too much, Lelouch. Too terrible.” It wasn't necessary, he didn't have to do it. Nunnally was alone now and Lelouch was too stupid to realize that all she needed for her world to be safe was her brother.

“ _What about me,_ ” he sobbed. _Why did I agree to this, why did I do it, what am I supposed to do now, I'm not strong enough for this, Lelouch, Lelouch, Lelouch is..._

Three a.m. Nobody would need him.

His hand reached out slowly, disgustingly calm, considering. His fingers curled around the handle of the drawer at his bedside and he pulled it open. Without having to see it, his hand found the familiar object he was looking for. Clutching it, he closed his eyes, debating for hardly even a second before removing the case from the drawer.

He looked at it vacantly, opening the case with a slight click. Inside were three vials, same as he last saw them. Beside them, the syringe. He paused before he took it in his hand, even though he had already made his decision. In one deft move, the vial was slid into place and the syringe positioned at his neck. Counting to three in his head. Let his eyes roll back. Forgot everything. Remembered everything.

It might have been a little bit better if he didn't consciously know it wasn't real. He hadn't done it many times before but his knowledge of it lessened his awareness of its effects. But for now, so long as this room was transformed only briefly into the one at the palace, then he would be okay with that. It would be okay if he could just pretend. It wasn't his pillow he was resting back upon. These weren't his hands inching over the suit. He wasn't wearing it because he had to. No, it was for entirely different reasons. Reasons that made him feel a little uncomfortable. But Lelouch assured him.

“You look better in it than me, that's for sure.”

God, that voice.

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking passed some tears that yet refused to fall. “Your majesty,” he whispered, feeling so suddenly, utterly relieved to see Lelouch looking down at him. Lelouch stayed like that for a moment, just quietly observing him. A warm hand reached down and brushed his hair from his face, gloved thumbs wiping away stray tears. It might very well have been his own, but _he didn't care it was Lelouch, Lelouch was..._

“Look what's happened to you.” He laughed softly, still loud in the silence of the room.

“So why dress me up like this anyway? Got some kind of fetishes I should know about, majesty?”

Lelouch paused, looking surprised, then laughed again, this time more pronounced. “What are you imagining right now anyway? Have you always thought I'm a sexual deviant or... perhaps it's you?”

His words were pretty sharp for a figment of his imagination, but Suzaku preferred it that way; he would rather him seem more realistic than just an ideal Lelouch. He like this Lelouch, the one that snipped at him when he would say something dumb and correct him.

“Maybe it is me,” he admitted, reaching out to wrap his arms around him. He could almost imagine the way his arms would feel around Lelouch's thin waist, feel the way his weight would feel pressing down against his stomach. It might have just been the suit still, but he could so vividly remember the scent of Lelouch's shampoo as he pressed his nose into his hair.

“God, Lelouch.” He'd finally broke and not even this fix would be able to mend him. “I miss you. Please...”

“Please what? I'm right here, Suzaku.”

His arms were embracing him, his hands stroking the back of his neck as he guided his chin to his shoulder, his body so close, so warm, _so alive._

So...

“L-Lelouch...”


	2. Another Side

His hands shook unsteadily, fingertips brushing against his skin. Lelouch's skin. His prince's lips were pressed against his and his eyes stayed open and staring in dumb shock. He wanted so much to clutch his hands in his jacket and tug him closer, kiss him breathless, but he remained frozen. It was too real. So real it _had_ to be an illusion. It was supposed to make things better, not worse. Why now, why like this, why make his heart ache more like the blade was being drawn from his own chest _why_.

Strength returned to him and he thrust this Lelouch away from him, sending him falling back to the foot of the bed. “What the hell _is this?_ ” he screamed, burying his hands in his hair, pulling his knees up to his chest. “What... the hell is going on anymore.”

Those arms were around him again, pulling him close and cradling him gently. Suzaku fought against him, pressing hard against his chest, trying to force him away. “You made me...” he sobbed, words stumbling over a clumsy tongue. “ _I killed you...! This is your fault, let me go, let me go, please god don't leave me._ ” He gasped, words failing him now when he wanted to say so much. He wanted to pound his fists into his chest and slap him and hold him and never let go.

Pulling away slightly, Lelouch looked down at him. _The_ Lelouch. _His_ Lelouch. His smile was so true and so beautiful; not sad or resigned. There was so much hope there with love for him. In his eyes he could still see the times when they ran so carefree through the fields, holding hands as innocent children, tying strings of flowers about each other's heads. The muted screams in his head, sometimes roaring, finally ceased. The only thought his mind seemed to want to think was _Lelouch_.

“You're so beautiful.” It was a truth, one probably agreed upon even by those who thought he was a demon. But right now, he was his angel. It could have been the refrain still coursing through his veins but he looked positively glorious. Something was different about him, he could tell, but he didn't know what it was. It didn't matter right then anyway. All he knew was that it was Lelouch. Lelouch was there, holding him again, kissing him, proving with his own touch that he existed.

Their lips met again and Lelouch lowered him back onto the bed, placing his head delicately against the pillow behind him. “Thank you, Suzaku,” he murmured, lips ghosting his cheeks with light kisses. “I'm so sorry you had to do that.” He looked away, eyes partially hidden by the fringe of ebony bangs. “You probably shouldn't forgive me either.”

What was he talking about.

It was so painful. It hurt him more to have to thrust that sword through him. It cut deeper than flesh, straight through to his own heart. He was sure Lelouch must have felt his hands shaking against the hilt as he slumped against his shoulder, trying so desperately to stay strong and be Zero.

But he had spent so much longer crying, sobbing because his prince was gone.

Now that he was in front of him, how was he supposed to be mad? He didn't have it in him.

“You idiot,” he laughed, half-sobbed. Cupping his face in his gloved palms, he pulled him forward, capturing his mouth, trying to communicate all the terrible sadness he had felt in his absence, expressing all the love that was still there for him.

The look on Lelouch's face after they separated was wistful and dreamy, punctuated with a satisfied smile.

“What do I need to forgive you for? I made a promise to you, no matter what.”

“Suzaku...”

“I love you, Lelouch.”

As if those weren't words Lelouch expected, he sniffed, a happy little laugh escaping along with something of a sob. He removed his gloves, brushing away a tear that had yet to fall with the back of his hand. “Things are different now,” quietly, he said. “Very different. But if this whole thing has told me something, it's that we'll be okay. Because together...”

“We can accomplish anything. Your majesty.”

Desperate kisses, harsh gasps as warm fingers unzipped and slipped beneath his suit. Their suit? Zero's suit, whoever that was. Suzaku couldn't remember the last time a situation like this had happened. Maybe it was a first, but he didn't mind as long as it was his emperor touching him and whispering tender, encouraging words in his ear. His hands were at his shoulders, slipping the suit down, exposing every inch of feverish skin. More than uncomfortable, he felt thankful to be rid of it, like shedding away heartbreak.

He felt a little ridiculous tearing up again now of all times. Lelouch was there, kissing him all over, holding his hands. Was this what love felt like? The terrible anguish and the pain, the bliss and comfort? Perhaps. Even if it meant he had to suffer a little more, he'd do it over and over again if it meant he could keep living in this moment.

Lelouch above him, the moonlight casting a halo around him in the dark, he seemed to define the ethereal. Were his lips always so full and soft? Did his hands always feel this wonderful? Every touch set his memories alight, making him remember and forget, marking this very instant down permanently in his memory.

“That mark...” His eyes were drawn to a line that crossed Lelouch's middle, faint but still visible even in the dark. Suzaku knew what it was without having to ask. Just knowing made his chest feel tight and his mouth feel dry. Suzaku reached out a hand, brushing his fingertips against the slight raise of the scar. It was perfectly uniform from left to right, a statement of his own swordsmanship but also a cruel reminder of what they had to suffer.

“I should thank you again,” Lelouch said. “If it were anyone else who did it, it wouldn't look so nice.” Suzaku would have laughed at the joke but it didn't feel very funny. Lelouch could sense his unease and picked up his chin, bringing their gazes together.

“It's your mark on me. It means I'm yours. Nothing else.”

This night was so unlike any other; too impossible. Being seduced by Lelouch, his lord? It was odd, but _damn_ if he didn't love it. There was no hesitation when he felt Lelouch's hands on his knees, edging them apart.

He winced, feeling Lelouch press inside him. He was tight still and it hurt but it was nothing compared to the feeling of just being connected with Lelouch again. Maybe next time he would yell at him for it before pushing in, but for now, he just wanted to feel him. He wrapped his arms around his neck, tugging him closer so that their foreheads touched. The pace was slow, their breaths mingling in their closeness. His head was starting to feel a little dazed and euphoric which he supposed was the feeling of the refrain wearing off. It could have been the late hour and the exhaustion too, but he hoped against hope that Lelouch would not fade away along with this feeling.

This love.

He came with Lelouch's name upon his lips, holding onto his shoulders just in case he were to disappear before he opened his eyes. Even as he slowly relaxed, every muscle feeling weak and sated, Lelouch remained there underhand. He cracked open an eye, thoroughly relieved to see him still there. His cheeks were a warm red in the dark, lips parted and eyes hazy. He didn't look like he'd be going anywhere.

A comfortable silence followed, neither saying a word, Lelouch holding him with his head cradled against his chest.

“You saw me use it, didn't you?” Suzaku asked, interrupting the stillness.

“The refrain?” It was rhetorical. “I don't blame you. I... thought of using it a few times myself in the past.” Another space of silence. “What's it like?”

“Sucks. Or it's really good, I'm not sure. You're real, right, Lelouch?”

“R.R.”

“What?”

“...Nothing.”

Suzaku shifted and looked at him skeptically. Smirking, Lelouch poked him between the eyes, making him flinch.

“I'll explain when you're in better condition to listen.”

Suzaku couldn't argue that. Hardly a moment later, he fell asleep.

Hours later, he awoke with the sun in his eyes and birds chirping outside his window. A predictable morning, there to mock his – 

He stiffened, hands clutching the sheets as the memories of the night before rushed back to him. Lelouch. There. _With him._ And so much more. It was the best gift the forgiving gods could ever give to him.

But the spot next to him on the bed was empty. His heart sunk and he collapsed against the bed. Tears overwhelmed him for what might have been the hundredth time, every part of him aching. He'd heard of people dying of broken hearts and right then, all he wanted was to – 

A sound upon his bedside table roused his attention. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, his blood freezing in his veins.

A steaming mug sat perched on the edge of the table, warm and enticing-looking.

“You like cinnamon, right? It's what I found in your cabinet, hope that's okay.”

“L-Lelouch, you...”

He laughed, a hand to his mouth. He was wearing one of his over-sized dress shirts, even bigger on him, the sleeves too long. His hair was tousled from the pillow and his eyes still looked a little sleepy.

“What, surprised? After all of that last night?” he purred, slipping back into bed. The shirt slid up his thighs and _shit if he didn't cover that he was going to get it._

He stuttered, failing to articulate the surprise, relief, and desire that swamped his emotions. Everything felt so confusing. Now that he wasn't being blinded by artificial realities, there were so many questions that he had, things he had to ask. After all the sadness, the anguish, the tears that he shed, though, he could never be too thankful that things were finally the way they should be.

There was only one response he could think of, the catch-all for every feeling inside him.

“I love you.”


End file.
